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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25731559">No Big Deal</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emily_F6/pseuds/Emily_F6'>Emily_F6</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Peter Parker Prompts [22]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Tony Stark is doing his best, Worried May Parker (Spider-Man)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:21:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,999</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25731559</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emily_F6/pseuds/Emily_F6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter was sure the cut was no big deal, despite the fact that the technical term for it was probably ‘Stab wound.’</p><p>Or</p><p>Peter gets himself into a mess and it’s Happy to the rescue.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Happy Hogan &amp; Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man) &amp; Peter Parker, Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Peter Parker Prompts [22]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1866505</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>332</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>No Big Deal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Peter was sure that the cut was no big deal, despite the fact that the technical term for it was probably ‘Stab wound.’  The painful hole right above his hip had come from a dirty looking knife wielded by a dirty looking man who had apparently been hiding out in the sewers, which was gross, and who Peter had managed to web up right after the man had plunged said dirty knife into his side.  After having his AI call the police, he’d managed to crawl up to the roof of the nearest building, pressing his hand against the hole in his side and laying down, taking deep breaths through the pain and waiting for his healing to take care of it.  Because surely it would.  He’d never been hurt in a way that his healing hadn’t fixed.</p><p>It had taken a few minutes for the pain to ebb for long enough that Peter could sit up, still holding pressure.  “Peter, I believe you should call for help,” Karen had suggested, her robotic voice soft and persuasive, but Peter had shaken his head, knowing that there was no reason to call anyone when the bleeding had already slowed down, and remembering the phone calls to Happy that had gone unanswered.</p><p>No way he was going to annoy Happy with this.  He was already on thin ice with May, who had called Mr. Stark moments after finding him in his suit and had a long, hushed, furious conversation with the man that Peter had not been allowed to join in, so he figured he was on thin ice with Mr. Stark too.  No need to add Happy to the list of people irritated with him.</p><p>Which brought him to the bathroom in his apartment, twisting and doing his best to clean the tender cut, which had now actually closed into something resembling a cut, with a cold wash rag.  Every slight touch was agonizing, and Peter breathed through clenched teeth as he got himself cleaned up and into a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt.  </p><p>Leaning against the bathroom wall, Peter panted and closer his eyes, looking around the bathroom for his phone.  Had he brought his phone in here?  He couldn’t remember...it was almost impossible to think through the pain.  He knew he needed to sleep...knew he needed to eat something too.  But his whole body felt so heavy and his eyes were refusing to stay open.  Any adrenaline he’d had before had completely worn off, and even the thought of walking to his bed felt impossible.  But he couldn’t risk falling asleep in the bathroom and freaking May out.</p><p>Gripping the wall with sticky hands, he managed to step out of the bathroom, feet dragging along the floor in an attempt not to aggravate the injury he’d covered with a gauze pad.  It hurt.  Every step and every breath made the pain spike, but there was nothing he could do about it.  He didn’t exactly have a real medical kit, or any drugs that worked with his system.</p><p>He found his phone on the floor by his suit, and he started to bend over to get it, but a stabbing pain that went all the way from his side to his fingertips halted his movements, and he stood there for a moment, lips pressed together in a tight line as he waited, half bent over, for the pain to let up enough for him to move again.  </p><p>“Karen?” he called, his voice breaking a little as tears threatened to spill from his tightly shut eyes.</p><p>“Yes, Peter?” the AI asked faintly from the suit he’d left pooled on his bedroom floor.  </p><p>For a moment, he considered it.  Was this something he really wanted to call Happy for?  A little cut on his side that was already healing.  Shaking his head, he stumbled over to his bed, holding his breath as he gingerly lay down.  It was fine.  Now that he was laying on his back, the pain was bearable and he could breathe again and it would be fine.</p><p>So he closed his eyes, ignoring the soft, not quite robotic  voice that called for him again.</p><p>His dreams were strange and fuzzy.  He felt sweaty in them, like he was wrapped in a blanket too tightly in the summer and he couldn’t figure out how to get out of it.  Slowly, as his fevered dreams of running and never making it to his destination, of fighting a clock he couldn’t see to accomplish a goal he couldn’t remember continued to play out, the pain got worse and worse until it was all he knew, even in his sleep.</p><p>Peter jerker awake, gasping for air that seemed limited somehow...like he couldn’t quite get enough.  He opened his mouth and fought to breathe, pressing his hands to the bed, but he couldn’t sit up.  He couldn’t get his arms to take his weight.  All he could do was drop back down the few centimeters he’d managed to lift himself and shake.  He was cold, he realized when his body was once more wracked with chills.  He was so, so cold.  And the pain…it was like nothing he’d ever felt.  </p><p>The tears did escape then, and he let out a helpless sob as his head sunk into the pillow, hands reaching for blankets he couldn’t find.  Was he at home?  Or...or on the rooftop?  Had he made it off the rooftop?  </p><p>Peter blinked up at the ceiling but he couldn’t remember if it was his ceiling.  Was this his apartment?  Why was he suddenly so cold?  Lifting his shirt, he tried to get a good look at the place where the pain originated, but he couldn’t even sit up enough for that.  “Karen?” he called, tears streaming down his face as his voice caught on a sob once more.  “Karen!”</p><p>“Yes, Peter?” the voice from his suit asked.  Was he wearing the suit?  No...no it was on the floor.  With his phone.  He needed it...but he couldn’t move.  All he could do was lay there and pant for air and shake and he wanted a blanket more than anything but he couldn’t find one!  </p><p>“I...I need help.  Call...call Happy...please.”</p><p>“Of course, Peter.”</p><p>Faintly, he could hear the line ringing in his suit, and he thought that he should try to get closer to the phone or the suit or whatever it was but he couldn’t even roll over...couldn’t sit up or breathe right or even keep his eyes open.  But after a moment, he heard Happy’s soft, far away voice.  “What do you want, kid?” the man grumbled, and Peter wondered what time it was.  May was supposed to get home on Saturday afternoon and then she’d need to sleep.  But...but where was Happy?  “Kid?” the man barked, and Peter sucked in a breath, trying to get enough air to speak.  </p><p>“Happy?” he gasped, practically running out of air halfway through the man’s name.  “Happy?”</p><p>“Peter?  It’s two in the morning.  What…”</p><p>“Happy, something...something’s wrong...I can’t…”</p><p>“Peter?  What’s…”. The man’s voice faded out and Peter’s chest hurt and his eyes were closed.  Had then been closed before?</p><p>His door opened.  Was May home early?  He blinked, mouth still open as he gasped for air and barely got any.  “Peter?  Peter!”  He blinked again and Happy was there, a hand pressing against his forehead and then pulling away.  The hand had been cold and he wanted it back, despite how cold he was.  “You have to talk to me, kid!  What’s going on?”</p><p>“I...I can’t reach...the blanket...I...I’m cold...and…”. He was panting between words and couldn't say anymore.  Couldn’t breathe!  </p><p>“Okay...okay, kid.  You...you’ve got to breathe.  You...shit…”. The man stood over him, wide-eyed and afraid as Peter started to hyperventilate.  “Where are you hurt?  What happened?”</p><p>“The...the knife...was…”. He didn’t know where he was going with that...didn’t know what he was trying to say.  How has Happy gotten here.  He shifted his arm and tried to pull his shirt up, and, catching on, the man lifted his shirt, pushing a blanket aside, and then he went still, eyes wide.  “Happy…”</p><p>“Okay.  We’re going to the hospital.  Now.  Can you sit up?”</p><p>Peter started to shake his head, but the man was tugging his upright and the pain made starbursts explode behind his eyes as he screamed, the sound so agonized and raw that it surprised even him.  Immediately he was laying back down, Happy’s frantic voice saying something over and over but he didn’t understand…. couldn’t catch what the man was saying until the roaring in his ears went away.</p><p>“...rry, I’m sorry...shit kid...I’m sorry.  Hold on.  Just..I’ll call an ambulance, okay.  You don’t have to move.  You’re okay.”  </p><p>Then the man was talking to someone else, words coming so fast that Peter couldn’t catch up...he only caught the occasional one like “fever” and “pain” but he didn’t understand.  Taking another breath he tried to explain. “Knife...but it was...okay...it...closed…”. He pressed a hand to his chest when even those words hurt.</p><p>“Shut up, kid.  It’s fine.  Help is coming.  You just keep breathing.”</p><p>“But...didn’t...want...to...bug you...know you...don’t...like me…”</p><p>There was a long, stunned silence but Peter couldn’t open his eyes or breathe right or remember if he’d told Happy about the knife.  Had he explained the knife?  The wound that had closed up?  </p><p>“Kid…”. Happy broke off, sounding like he was choking for a second before clearing his throat and pressing on.  “I like you, Peter.  You’re a good kid.  I need you to call me if something like this happens, okay?  If you need me, you can always call me.”  </p><p>Peter didn’t know how much time passed.  He didn’t know if Happy kept talking.  All he knew was pain that radiated from his side and went through every extremity, making it impossible to move without it pulling in time with his heartbeat.  His chest hurt too, but differently.  A pressure was there, like someone was sitting on him and he couldn’t breathe he couldn’t breathe and someone was yelling and he really couldn’t breathe!</p><p>Things happened in flashes, awareness coming and going.  A tube scraping the back of his throat and air inflating his lungs without his help.  A pinch in his wrist.  Pain in his side like nothing he’d ever felt...pain so sharp and consuming that he didn’t think he could survive it.  People all around him, some saying his name, some touching his eyes and pulling his eyelids back, some covering him with a blanket and standing at his side, doing things he didn’t understand.  The movement was the only constant.  Everyone but him was moving almost frantically,  but he couldn’t keep up.  Couldn’t move and couldn’t speak.  So, finally, Peter slept.</p><p>This time, his dreams were calmer.  Softer.  Quieter.  He was floating and drifting and...dying?  Was he dying?  Before it had felt like it.  It had felt like dying.  So...was he...dying?  He wasn’t afraid.  The pain was better, at least.  Still there, but not so awful and all-consuming that he couldn’t breathe around it.  In fact, there was something under his nose and he could breathe almost easily.  </p><p>He scrunched his nose and took a deeper breath, experimenting.  The air came, lungs inflating, and the pressure in his chest was gone.  He was covered in a blanket, he realized as he tried to move and found that his hands were laying on something, but that his feet were under something.</p><p>And then he opened his eyes.  </p><p>The ceiling was unfamiliar and the room was dark, but he could hear noises.  Beeping and soft voices.  Footsteps and heartbeats...and one heartbeat closer than all the rest.  He turned his head and blinked in surprise to find May siting in a chair beside him, her hands clasped as if in prayer, her face hidden behind them.  </p><p>“May?” he asked, his voice a croak.  His aunt jumped, turning to look at him for a moment, eyes red-rimmed, before she burst into tears, dropping her face back into one hand and gripping his hand with the other one.  Stunned, he could only blink at her, and the beeping of the machine beside him started to speed up.</p><p>“Oh, God...Peter...God…”  Her shoulders shook and he opened his mouth and closed it, feeling tears spring to his own eyes.</p><p>“May?  May…it’s okay.  I’m…”</p><p>“It is not okay!” she cried, shaking her head and looking up at him.  “It’s not okay!  You…you almost died, Peter.  You…”</p><p>The words hit him right in the chest and his mouth dropped open.  “What?  May, it was just…”</p><p>“It was just a stab wound from a knife covered in bacteria!  It was just a hole in your side that you didn’t clean out and that closed on its own and...and it nearly killed you!”  She was practically yelling, but tears poured down her cheeks and she gripped his hand almost too tightly.  “And you didn’t even call for help until sepsis had already set in and...and Harold had to call an ambulance because he couldn’t move you!   And you were...you were dying!”  </p><p>Peter forced himself to sit up a little, pulling on her hand until she got up and moved over to his bed, dropping carefully beside him and pulling him into her arms.  </p><p>“I wasn’t there...you were dying and I wasn’t even…”</p><p>“I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry, May.  I swear, I didn’t know.  I didn’t know it was that bad.”</p><p>“And you keep going out and putting yourself in danger…”</p><p>“I know.  I’m sorry…”</p><p>“You kept screaming and fighting the vent and they couldn’t restrain you...they couldn’t do surgery until Tony Stark came in with drugs he kept insisting would work on you…”</p><p>“Wait...what?”</p><p>She wiped her eyes, looking more tired than he’d ever seen her.  “Because of your metabolism.  They couldn’t find anything that would work, but Tony came with one of his doctors and Pepper Potts and they made everyone sign NDAs and they brought medicine that worked on you.”</p><p>“Are they still here?” he asked, wide-eyed.  He’d assumed that Mr. Stark was mad at him.  Mad for turning him down when he’d been invited to join the Avengers and mad that Peter’s aunt had all but scolded him.  </p><p>“Pepper left to speak with some lawyers a few hours ago.  Tony and Harold are in the waiting room.”</p><p>“But...why?”  </p><p>She frowned, brushing his hair back.  “Peter, you know I don’t really trust Tony Stark.  And I’m not happy about him giving you a superhero suit and not telling me.  But...he was worried.  The ambulance got you here at two something this morning...I got the call when I was on my shift. Tony got here an hour and a half later.  It’s almost midnight now...he’s been here all day.”</p><p>Peter stared at her, letting the words sink in as she wiped her eyes, seeming calmer now.  Still, she clutched his hand, not ready to let go.  He didn’t mind.  He wasn’t ready to let go either.  It was all too much. Mr. Stark cared about him, at least enough to wait around all day in a hospital while he was unconscious.  Happy had brought him in.  </p><p>He had almost died.</p><p>He sort of remembered.  He remembered the pain...the worst pain he’d ever felt in his life.  He remembered struggling to breathe.  And he remembered Happy’s pale face and his shaking hands trying to pull Peter to his feet.  </p><p>“How are you feeling?” May asked, brushing his hair back.  </p><p>“I’m okay...I’m sorry I scared you.” </p><p>She pursed her lips, giving him a faint smile before leaning in and kissing his temple.  “I love you, baby.  So much.  You’re...you’re all I have and...I can’t lose you, Peter. I can’t.”  Placing a hand on his cheek, she gave him another watery smile, lips trembling.  “Please...just...the next time you get hurt, please, call someone.  Right away.”  </p><p>“I just…I didn’t want to bug anyone.  I didn’t think it was a big deal.”</p><p>“It was.  It was a very big deal. From now on, all stab wounds are a big deal, okay?”</p><p>He nodded.  “Okay.”</p><p>“Good.  So…how would you feel about a visitor?”  He frowned in confusion.  “Tony asked me if he could see you when you woke up.  He’s been worried.”</p><p>“Oh...he...he doesn’t have to…”</p><p>“Honey, he was worried,” she repeated.  “Really worried.  He thought…I mean, we all thought you were…”. She shook her head as if clearing it.  “It was touch and go for a while, even with the medicine he brought.  So...would you like to see him?”</p><p>“Oh...um….okay.  Yeah.  If you think...I mean, if he wants to.”</p><p>She smiled, sitting up and brushing his hair back.  “He does.  I’m going to run home if that’s okay.  I need to change.”</p><p>“You should get some sleep.  I’ll probably be asleep soon anyway.”  She hesitated, and he knew she must be exhausted if she was even considering it, so he pushed a little harder.  “I’ll be fine, I promise.  Go home and sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow.”</p><p>She softened, nodding a little.  “Okay, baby.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”  With one last kiss pressed to his hair, she turned and left the room, glancing back at him once more before disappearing around the corner.  Peter lay back against the pillow, considering sitting up, but he didn’t know where the remote was, so he gave up, taking deep breaths and enjoying the ability to.  He couldn’t believe it was already midnight.  He’d missed a whole day!  Had Ned tried to text him?  Had anyone told his friend what was going on?</p><p>A soft knock on the door surprised him and he looked up to find a nurse standing there.  “Peter?  I just wanted to check on you really quick.”  She stepped inside and picked up the chart at the end of his bed, scanning it.  “How are you feeling?  It’s good to see you awake.”</p><p>“I’m fine.  Just kind of tired.”</p><p>“That’s to be expected.  We’ve had you on some very strong pain medication and antibiotics.  You had to have surgery and we stitched up the wound on your side.  Are you in any pain?” she asked, lifting the blanket and the hospital gown and taking a look at his side.  He couldn’t see it, but she seemed satisfied.  </p><p>“Um….it’s not too bad.”  Actually, the pain was still there, a throbbing in time with his heartbeat, and trying to sit up had only made it worse.  She gave him a critical once over.</p><p>“Scale of one to ten?”</p><p>“Like....a four?” he lied.  Actually, it was more of a six, but before, it had been a fifteen out of ten, so he didn’t want to complain.  Still, she moved over to the iv stand beside him and adjusted something, then hit a button.  </p><p>“That should help with the pain, and help you get some sleep.  Do you need anything else?”  </p><p>Peter shook his head because suddenly, the pain was gone and he felt great.  Really great.  Like floaty, in the best way, and totally comfortable.  Warm.  Happy.  It all came to him in a rush and he felt the tension drain from his muscles as he seemed to turn to mush in the bed.</p><p>There was another knock on the door and he blinked over at the man standing in the hallway, surprised to find Iron Man there before remembering that May had already told him that Mr. Stark would be coming up to his room.  </p><p>“You didn’t have to…”. Peter mumbled as the man approached, his face drawn and worried.  “I’m fine.  You didn’t have to wait…all day?”</p><p>The man lifted an eyebrow, then gave a faint smile, perching on the chair beside Peter’s bed.  “Are you high right now?”</p><p>“I’m...I told her it was a four but she didn’t believe me...it was really six.”</p><p>“Right.  Good to know,” Mr. Stark chuckled, shaking his head a little.  “So I guess you’re feeling better.”</p><p>“Floaty,” Peter agreed, closing his eyes and dropping his head against the pillow.  </p><p>“Well, I’ll just have to tell you all of this twice, I guess.  All of the doctors and nurses signed NDAs, so your identity is safe.”</p><p>“NBA?  I...I like basketball…”. Peter murmured, smiling when Mr. Stark snorted.  </p><p>“Close.  NDA.  It’s...actually, forget it.  It doesn’t matter.  Your secret identity is safe.  That’s all you need to know.  And I brought the good drugs from the compound, so you can be high as a kite until you’re feeling better.”</p><p>“Feel better…”. Peter nodded.  He was so warm and comfortable and he was so grateful to Mr. Stark for that.  Did Mr. Stark know that he’d almost died?  “Mr. Stark?”</p><p>“Yeah, kid?”</p><p>Peter opened his eyes and found the man regarding him with a half smirk.  “I...I was dying.”</p><p>The man’s smile dropped immediately and the blood seemed to drain from his face, leaving him pale and...old-looking.  His jaw went tight and it was a moment before he nodded.  “I know.  It’s a good thing you called Happy when you did.”</p><p>“I didn’t think it was bad,” Peter tried to explain, the words floating out of his grasp.  “I...I knew you were mad…Happy doesn’t like me…”</p><p>Mr. Stark shook his head, leaning in closer, his brown eyes wide and intense.  “Peter, hey, look at me for a second.”  Peter tried, blinking and trying to focus.  “I was not mad at you.  I swear.  And even if I was, if you’re hurt, I still want you to call me.  And don’t think I didn’t notice the suit didn’t call me when you got stabbed.  I’ll be fixing that and installing better firewalls.  But...hey…”. The man was smiling a little when Peter opened his eyes again.  Had he shut them?  “I know I’m going to have to repeat this since you’re obviously not going to remember , but it bears repeating.  You can always call one of us if you’re hurt.  We’re always going to come if you need us.  And I put my number in your phone.  Call me whenever you need me.  Okay?”</p><p>“Call you?”  Peter asked, confused and trying to keep up.</p><p>“Yeah, Pete.  Call me.”</p><p>“I have your number?”</p><p>“You sure do.”</p><p>“I said no.”  The man frowned, tilting his head, so Peter tried to explain.  “Avengers.  You asked...but...I can’t…”</p><p>“Hey, hey...it’s good that you turned me down.  You need some time on the ground.  Keep looking out for the little guy.  The Avengers are ready to have you whenever you’re ready to join. Okay?”</p><p>“Mr. Stark?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“There’s a hole in my suit.  Sorry.”  Peter smiled when the man gave a short laugh.  </p><p>“I know.  Figured the knife had to get into you somehow.  How about I show you how to fix it when you’re feeling better?  You can come up to the compound, okay?  We’ll fix the suit.  I’ll order dinner.  It’ll be great.  Okay?”</p><p>Peter blinked at him, trying to remember what the question had been, but he felt so...floaty.  And tired.  He wanted to sleep.  “Mr. Stark?”</p><p>“What’s up, kid?”</p><p>“It’s a zero now.  Negative five.  No...less.  Smaller.”</p><p>“Yeah, okay.  Good to know Underoos.  Get some sleep and we’ll do this again in the morning.”</p><p>“You...don’t have to...stay…” he muttered, eyes drifting shut.  The man beside him sighed softly, and he felt a hand ruffle his hair, then rest on his head.  </p><p>“I’ll be here when you wake up.  May too, I’m sure.  Just sleep.”</p><p>That sounded like an excellent idea, so Peter did.</p><p> </p>
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